


Worse Pains

by buckybaarmes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky was rescued after the fall, M/M, and probably wishes he wasn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:51:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybaarmes/pseuds/buckybaarmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky lives. Steve doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Pains

Bucky survives the fall, they find him and he is hurt badly but still alive, still with Steve, and they continue on, because the war doesn’t stop just because they found Bucky, alive.

‘Screw that keep calm saying, we're American and I want to just stop and spend time with Bucky,' Steve never says but he can imagine, were they ever to gain the gift of telepathy right about now, the look on the Colonel’s face and the choking cough Howard wouldn’t try that hard to cover up and how Peggy, in her infinite patience would just purse her lips and roll her eye. Bucky has never been able to hold back though, not like Steve, and with as much venom as a man laid up in bed, black and blue and just a little broken all over can muster, Bucky tells them exactly where they can shove that saying, and it is nowhere the sun shines and going to become cozy neighbors with what Bucky has planned for Schmidt and Zola.

Still, Steve is fit for duty and Bucky is not, and the war will not stop and wait for the bruises to fade from Bucky's face and the broken bones he has to mend, and there is nothing to be done. This is it, and they know it, the last fight, and unlike in those horrible horrible hours that Steve spent after the fall and before they found Bucky again, what he can remember of them anyway, Steve does not want to die fighting Schmidt and HYDRA. He wants to live, to return back to Bucky, and dammit, the end is so close, just one more fight. Just one more. He is going to win, and Bucky will be there waiting for him when he gets back, and they can work things out from there, they will.

Steve still can't help the selfish feeling of relief, however, when he knows Bucky will have to stay at the base, and Bucky can't help the growing feeling of dread that Steve is going off to fight, and he can't be there to protect him, like he used to and feels that he always should. It is a small comfort, the fact that Steve has super serum pulsing through his veins, and out of all the men going to fight, he will be the most likely to survive. That does nothing though, not really, to quench the unease growing in Bucky's gut, and makes Steve swear, on pain of kicking his, granted, much larger ass all the way to Sunday if anything happens to him.

“Oh and what’s my reward for when I do come back,” Steve asks almost as a joke, and Bucky replies in kind that he will take him out dancing, almost as a joke, but they both fall silent and the hands that are held now squeeze together tight, tight, tighter, and it should hurt but they both can imagine worse pains.

“Don't do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I when you're taking all the stupid with you?” Neither of them say it, but they think on how much has changed since they last said that, the roles are reversed now, Steve is the one going off, and Bucky is essentially helpless to do anything, and god how he hates it, and can now understand the hollow tone Steve used to congratulate him on his enlistment. _He will come back, he will,_ it’s a mantra Bucky practically lives by the moment Steve leaves the compound. Hey, it kept him sane on Zola's table, although, granted, last time is was simply that Steve is safe safe safe, as far away from this hell hole as possible.

Bucky refuses to think on how wrong he was the last time.

Although Bucky is not cleared for active duty, there is no way in hell they could keep him in bed, and he is allowed into the communications room, can track the teams progress and is allowed to look at their battle plans. That is why he is there when Peggy runs into the room, hair windswept and eyes wild and he knows that something is wrong. The plan has changed, she tells him, and its nothing really to worry about so why does the room feel smaller and the air feel lighter and his chest feel tighter? It’s just a plane, and Steve is the smartest guy he knows, and can land the thing, no problem. _He will come back. He will come back. He will come back._

That is why he is there when the radio crackles to life after minutes, agonizing minutes that defied the laws of nature to stretch into hours of silence, and he ignores the ache in his cracked ribs that comes from him launching himself at the microphone, damned if he wasn't the one to talk to Steve first. That is why he is the first person to hear that the plane is damaged.

“That’s alright though, Steve. Right? We'll just find you a place to land,” and Peggy is already tearing though maps to find him the closest landing strip. Sure, it could get a little hairy but its nothing they can't handle. _He will come back. He will come back._

That is why he is there when Steve calmly states that that is not an option, there is no time and they are out of ideas. Done. There is nothing more to do. And it honestly takes Bucky a few moments, too many moments, to comprehend what Steve is saying. Peggy chokes back a sob somewhere behind Bucky, and he can't even register that fact. He can't do anything really. _He will come back. He will come back. He has to come back._ There is no other option. Peggy must say something because she puts her hand on Bucky's shoulder and leaves the room.

Unlike the last time Steve was set on begin his damn selfless self, when Bucky had shouted at him, too furious at his friends deep-seated martyr complex, incensed at the idea that Steve though Bucky could just leave him. He had screamed at his friend from across the inferno. This time, Bucky can barely find his voice, can hardly form a word.

“Steve,” its not good enough. “Steve, please, please don't do this,” he doesn’t know what else to say, and even if he could form the right thoughts, it was Steve who had the gift of words, not Bucky. Bucky spoke though his actions, and now, miles away, they amount to nothing. He manages to keep the quaver out of his voice, but it is a close thing.

“It’s headed for New York Buck,” and Bucky refuses to hang his head. He knows that tone, and knows that nothing he can say can change Steve's mind. He will be damned if he doesn’t try though.

“There, there must be something w-I-you can do.” Something. Anything.

“No,” and Bucky has to swallow down a scream “It’s too fast and there is not enough time.” There is never enough time. Never ever ever, and they have reached the end of it, and its too soon. “I-I’m going to put her in the water,” and oh god please no, please. _He has to come back. He was supposed to come back. He needs to come back._

“Steve,” there is a catch of breath on the other end. “Steve I still owe you a dance”

“I though that was my reward if I came back,” and it takes everything Bucky has not to break down. _He isn't coming back._

“Let’s just call it me paying you back for all the times I owe you”

“Hey that’s not fair, you owe me way more times than one dance.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk,” and there is a silence that needs to be filled because all they have left is seconds but somehow the silence holds all that can't be said. “Hey, Buck, I-I think I'm going to need a rain check on that dance”

“Can't believe I'm being stood up already,” and there is a laugh at the other end and Bucky can't fathom the idea that this is the last time he will hear it.

“Hey Buck, I-"

“I know,” and they do, they both do, and there is no point in saying it, not right now. Bucky clenches his hand in a fist so tight it aches all the way up his arm. “I do too.” There is a little huff that could almost be a laugh, and then there is nothing. And he whispers his name into the microphone, again and again, not being able to keep the quaver out of his voice now, all that answers is static, and he finally hangs his head, hand still clenched in a fist and his ribs still aching, but he can't bring himself to care.

After all, there are worse pains to feel.


End file.
